I sit here in my room, with the dark behind me and the very repeated new discovered Israeli song, I love music that I don’t understand. In my brain it’s almost as if the voice is being used as an instrument. Its stunning to say the least. I find that night is the best time to write and express myself. It is 11:03 pm and I am dreading waking up. My mind feasts on memories of the weekend and it puzzles me how fast time flies when you are distracted. Now that I am starting to think again it hits me that the week will be full of new experiences that I will require to meet the expectations of my future that I hold for myself. It sends a sharp shiver running up my spine, a sharp, but needed wake up call to my rested mind. The week will consist of me getting stressed out, built up and shattered all in time for the much needed two day holiday at the end of the week.
It confuses me to think how fast time flies, it feels like I was stressing out on which colour crayon I would use for the 1st grade examination. It confuses me to think that the stresses I am experiencing at this point of time will seem as useless as a choice between a crayon one day. One day I will look over all this and say to myself, “I have conquered the worries of my childhood and the nagging, unintentional expectations of everyone around me.” That brings me peace, but not enough to distract me from what I am swimming in right now. I am drowning in unnecessary worry that knocks down the door to my mind every. Single. Night. The monotonous banging and nagging infuriates my already restless mind. Anxiety is a scab, it is an itch on your back that you can not reach, a burn that goes away only after the blister has been burst and the skin heals, a back ache that stays just long enough for you to be paralyzed in pain. One day I will be free, but till that day. I will scheme and plan different ways to kill and destroy my unwanted worry.
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